16. Ceara

The machine hummed to life, its familiar tug pulling me into the realm of visions and time.

The chamber was cold, a contrast to the warmth of my last moment with Ellie.

Its metallic touch on my skin sent shivers down my spine.

As images danced before my eyes, my thoughts raced.

The weight of recent revelations weighed heavily on me.

My visions, my gift, had inadvertently led to the death of an influential politician.

A force of positive change gone, and the trajectory of the galaxy forever altered.

How many other destinies had been manipulated by my unwilling prophecies?

The thought left a bitter taste on my tongue.

Then there was Ellie.

Her betrayal stung, but her honesty, her choice to unveil her truth, had mended the fraying threads of our bond.

The fragrance of her hair, a combination of exotic flowers from her home planet, filled my mind, a comforting anchor amid the whirlwind of visions.

Suddenly, the machine's constant hum was drowned out by the palpable fear from the holo-monitor's images.

A heavyset Titan, his usually proud and fierce demeanor replaced by apprehension, skulked through dimly lit corridors.

His hurried breath sounded loud, even in the vastness of the chamber.

Each footstep, though muted on the plush carpets, betrayed his anxiety.

My eyes, despite the overwhelming barrage of images, remained fixed on the Titan as he slipped into an office.

The room was lavish, adorned with precious metals and gems that twinkled and emitted soft harmonies when light hit them.

But the Titan wasn't there for the treasures.

He sought information.

He rummaged hurriedly through the drawers, his fingers brushing against papers, creating a soft rustling sound that seemed to echo in the otherwise silent room.

Finally, his fingers found what they sought.

A set of papers, bound together, with a glaring title:

OPERATION MIRAGE

My heart raced, the name alone suggesting covert and possibly dangerous plans.

As the Titan scanned the documents, I too saw glimpses of their contents.

Diagrams of vast chambers, similar to the one I was currently strapped in, references to "phased energy", and plans that hinted at large-scale manipulation of reality.

Could it be that my visions were not just predictions but were, in some twisted way, shaping reality?

That thought sent a jolt of electricity down my spine.

Operation Mirage.

The name lingered in my mind.

This could be the key, I thought, the way out for me and Ellie.

A mirage.

I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder, the machine's way of signaling the end of a session.

As the restraints released me, a plan began to form in my mind.

* * *

The momentI stepped out of the chamber, my entire being was buzzing with electricity.

My senses were heightened; the dim lights of the prison hallway felt blinding, the faint murmurs of guards and prisoners seemed like they were shouted into my ear.

But amidst the chaos of sensory overload, my mind was clear and fixed on one thing:

Creating a mirage.

I nearly ran back to our cell, excitement giving me a rush of energy.

Bursting through the door, I found Ellie, her mere presence soothing. "Ellie!" I blurted, my words tumbling over each other in my haste. "I've got it, the way out! Mirage! We can create a mirage!"

She looked up at me, her brows knitted in confusion, her soft green eyes trying to keep up with my frenzied state. "Ceara, slow down! I can't understand a word you're saying."

"Mirage! Our escape! It's all right there!" I tried to explain, but my words were coming out all jumbled, and my thoughts were a whirlwind.

Ellie reached up and gently grabbed my shoulders.

Her touch had a calming effect, sending waves of warmth and security throughout my body. "Deep breath," she instructed, her voice soft yet firm.

I took a deep breath, the cool air filling my lungs and giving me a moment of clarity. "Okay," I began, trying to organize my thoughts. "I think I've figured out a way to use my gift, to turn the tables on the Supervisor."

She gave me a patient smile. "From the top, Ceara. Slowly."

Taking another deep breath, I began:

"I'm going to create a mirage!"

Ellie frowned. "That's no clearer. What do you mean?"

"During one of my Visions today, I saw a Titan stealing plans about something called ‘Operation Mirage.'"

"Operation Mirage? What's that?"

"I have no idea. But it doesn't matter. Look, instead of passively seeing the future, what if I use my imagination? I dont look at the images on the holo-monitor and instead see clear images I make in my mind?"

"But the truth serum. It will make you tell them what you see."

"Yes," I conceded. "But only what I choose to tell them. It has to be the truth but if I leave out certain details, they won't know I'm secretly talking about our escape and not whatever they want me to see! I'll narrate a story to the Supervisor, making him believe it's about a future he wanted to know about. He'll take actions based on my fake Vision while we escape."

Ellie looked thoughtful for a moment. "So, you're suggesting we play a trick on the Supervisor using your Visions as bait? It's risky."

"Exactly!" I exclaimed. "It's the perfect cover. They trust my Visions. If I show them our escape, they will react. And in their reactions, we can find the cracks in their defense."

She bit her lip, an action I had come to recognize as her thinking pose. "But Ceara, what if they figure out you're faking?"

I nodded, understanding her concern. "There's always that, risk, Ellie. But right now, this might be our only shot."

Ellie sighed, brushing her fingers against my cheek.

The sensation was comforting, a promise of her unwavering trust and belief. "You really think this will work?"

"We only have one chance at this," I said, my voice resolute. "But I believe it can work. We need to trust each other and our bond."

She smiled, her lips soft against mine as she pulled me into a kiss.

The world faded away, leaving just the two of us, our hearts intertwined.

When she pulled back, her voice was filled with determination. "Then let's create our mirage."

* * *

The familiar humof the machine grew louder as I was strapped into the chair.

The pressure against my temples was more intense this time, and the cool, antiseptic scent of the chamber made me draw a sharp breath.

The ambient noises, the hushed tones of the technicians, and the distant hum of machinery echoed around me.

The familiar taste of the truth serum, metallic and sour, flooded my mouth, reminding me of its impending effects.

As the holo-monitor flickered to life, I closed my eyes, trying to calm my racing heart.

All our plans, all our hopes rested on this moment.

I could no longer simply be a passive observer.

I had to take control.

The first image on the holo-monitor was of a dark, winding corridor, but I pushed it away, focusing my mind and my energy elsewhere.

Instead, I imagined Ellie's face, her determined eyes, and that faint hint of defiance she wore so well.

Beside her, I saw myself.

I could see us, as if I were floating above, watching the duo as they darted through corridor after corridor, avoiding guards and taking hidden routes.

I imagined the heat of the walls as we pressed against them, listening for approaching footsteps, and the tension in the air, thick enough to cut.

"What do you see?" The Supervisor's voice broke through my concentration, insistent and demanding.

Taking a deep breath, I began my tale. "I see a figure. He… seems to be on the move. He has someone with him."

"Who?" the Supervisor interjected.

Ellie.

It's Ellie.

But I couldn't admit that, not without giving away our plan of escape. "It's… a female with striking green eyes, and the other is a tall, muscular male. They seem to be plotting, planning an escape route."

I continued to weave the story, giving vague descriptions, mentioning corridors, hidden alcoves, and secret passages, all the while emphasizing the need to intercept and prevent their escape.

I felt a bead of sweat form on my brow, the weight of the lie pressing down on me.

Despite the truth serum coursing through my veins, I wasn't lying about the vision; I was simply choosing which parts to share and which to keep hidden.

I could only hope the Supervisor wouldn't see through the ruse.

At least, not yet.

There was a pause after I finished speaking, a heavy silence that settled in the room.

I could hear my own heartbeat, thudding loudly in my ears.

I strained, trying to pick up any sound, any clue to the Supervisor's thoughts.

Had he bought it?

After what felt like an eternity, the Supervisor finally responded, his tone unreadable. "Thank you, Ceara. Your information is invaluable."

I exhaled, relief flooding through me, though I was careful not to let it show.

As the machine powered down and the straps were released, I felt a wave of exhaustion hit me.

My limbs were heavy, my mind foggy, but beneath it all was a shimmer of hope.

For the first time, I felt like we were one step ahead.

The guards carried me back to the cell, but for once, I didn't mind the journey.

I heard the faint sounds of footsteps and murmured conversations.

The door slid open, and the dim light of the cell welcomed me back.

As the door closed behind me, I allowed myself a small smile.

For once, the odds seemed to be in our favor.

And with each passing moment, freedom felt closer than ever before.

* * *

The chillof the cell seemed more pronounced when I entered, but seeing Ellie's face warmed me instantly.

Her eyes searched mine, looking for answers.

Before she could voice her thoughts, I declared:

"We're leaving."

Ellie's brow furrowed in confusion. "When?"

"Now."

A momentary panic set into her eyes, and she glanced around our small prison. "But how do you know when?"

I hesitated, realizing my Vision hadn't provided a clear timeline. "I don't," I admitted, frustration tingeing my words. "But the Supervisor might realize the story I fed him is fake at any moment. Seconds, minutes, hours… days? I can't be sure. That's why we have to act now."

My mind raced as I tried to process our next steps.

The Vision, always a consistent force in my life, never once misled me.

All it required was a starting point — a singular act to set the rest in motion, like a series of dominoes.

I thought of my Visions, of the vivid threads of destiny that seemed to weave and intertwine, but this time, I wasn't merely an observer.

This time, I would choose the path.

I approached the cell door, feeling the cold metal beneath my fingertips.

With a deep breath, I accessed my unique ability, the one that allowed me to project ten seconds into the future.

A flurry of images flashed through my mind, each presenting a potential outcome.

There I was, banging on the door, my palms stinging from the repeated impact.

When that didn't work, the potential outcomes split off into a dozen other possibilities; I kicked at the door, ran at it with my shoulder; in one reality, I hurt myself, in another, I repeated the act over and over again.

Countless iterations of the same action filtered before me over and over again.

In another Vision, I hurled my cot through the air, crashing against the door in a futile attempt to break it down.

Yet another vision showed me leveraging my cot, trying to pry the door open.

All to no avail.

I felt Ellie's eyes on me, the weight of her concern pressing against my back.

Then, an anomaly.

A Vision different from the rest.

It had succeeded where the others hadn't.

It was subtle, almost lost amidst the more dramatic attempts.

I saw myself knocking gently against the wall, right where I knew an electronic panel lay on the other side.

I watched as the rhythmic tapping caused the wires behind to fizzle and malfunction, leading to the door swinging open.

My decision made, I walked confidently to the wall and began tapping.

The pattern was consistent, persistent — almost like a code.

Ellie approached me, her voice edged with curiosity. "Ceara, what are you doing? I thought we were meant to be getting out of here?"

Before I could answer, there was a faint sizzling sound, followed by a click.

The cell door slid open, revealing the dimly lit corridor beyond.

A smirk tugged at the corners of my lips as I met Ellie's surprised gaze. "Just playing a little tune," I replied, winking.

The urgency of the situation gripped us, but it felt liberating to find moments of levity amidst the chaos.

Ellie grinned, shaking her head. "After this is all over, remind me to sign you up for a magician's course."

I chuckled, feeling the warmth of her laughter wash over me.

It was these moments — fleeting as they were — that reminded me why I was fighting so hard.

For us, for our future.

With the path forward clear, we stepped out of our prison, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

I knew the journey wouldn't be easy, but with Ellie by my side and the power of my Visions guiding us, I felt invincible.